


Reckless

by sansalannistark



Series: For the North [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Batle Fluff, Couple in Battle, F/M, Jaime freaking out, Sansa being a hotheaded fool like her husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 09:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansalannistark/pseuds/sansalannistark
Summary: Jaime's not the only fucking idiot. Turns out he married one too. Companion piece to 'For you, my queen'.





	Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> A little oneshot from tumblr that fits nicely with this series. Requested by thoughtsthatgounnoticed - thanks honey!

Jaime shivered with the cold, pressing a bruising kiss to his wife’s lips as her hand wrapped itself round the back of his neck. 

“I’ll find you. I swear it.“ 

"I know you will,” she whispered, though her blue eyes betrayed her fear. “I love you. Don’t ever leave me.”

He nodded, unable to find the words to adequately comfort her, and not sure there even were such words. All he could give her was his return. With a final hurried kiss, he turned his horse and rode towards his men, a last lingering glance directed at her figure atop her own horse. Sansa’s face was painted with worry and sorrow but she hardened her fear and nodded as he had, turning her own horse around. Barely had they parted than the sound of the horn signalled the start of the greatest war Westeros would ever face. The Battle of Queenscrown. For the first time in his life, Jaime was unsure of this battle’s outcome. He could only pray Sansa made it through alive. 

Surging into the fray, he led his charge, his dragon glass sword slashing with a furious desperation at the infernal creatures. He was well occupied; managing to keep himself alive for what he thought could have been the first few hours, although it may have even been days. Time seemed frozen. 

Jaime managed to find a reprieve for a minute or two some significant time later and glanced across the spanning battlefield for Sansa. Thankfully, her russet hair beckoned to him and he sighed in relief when he saw her alive and moving. As for if she was well, he could only hope. She was angrily fighting a white walker near her brother and Jaime felt relieved that even if he could not remain by her side, her brother could. He had no doubt that Jon Snow would die to protect his sister. 

Jaime kept his eyes on his wife as he fought. He wasn’t willing to risk losing the woman he loved unconditionally. 

Memories took him back to their days in King’s Landing where Cersei had tried to have Sansa killed. Jaime had known then, as he knew now, that he would never forgive himself if Sansa died. He had sworn - at that moment - that he would never let her out of his sight and he would protect her until the last slip of air left his body. Like his vow to Catelyn Stark to protect Sansa all those years ago, and his vows to Sansa herself when they had married, he made another vow to protect her now. 

Unfortunately his distraction had cost him, and as he battled against the onslaught of wights, he did not notice the one approaching from behind. He heard a shout and turned. Too late, he saw the blade swing ferociously towards his face but before it sliced him in two, Arya Stark’s new blade - a dragon glass version of needle - blocked the deadly blow. In two strokes, she shattered the thing into shards of ice. Jaime nodded his thanks before the both of them returned to the madness.

Time passed in an endless wave of cutting, slashing, stabbing and desperation. They were falling but luckily so were the wights. Daenerys’ dragons soared overhead, aiding immensely as they burnt scores of white walkers and wights to death. Jaime continued fighting but as he glanced at where Sansa had been battling, he lurched at her absence. Painful thoughts plagued him:  _Has she been cut down? What if she’s badly hurt? Or…_  Jaime tried not to dwell on the sickening possibilities his heart rolled out. Thankfully, a moment later the redhead reappeared, fighting vigorously. She didn’t appear to be hurt, he noted, shoving another wight away with a stab of his blade, he caught Sansa glancing up towards a small cliff top just a short way up from the battlefield, below the immense cliff face the Night’s King resided upon. This smaller ledge, with a path leading down to their current position, was occupied by two tall white walkers: he surmised they must be the deputies. 

Jaime spared glances at Sansa, who remained fixated in the smaller ledge as she fought. He began to follow her thought process but realised just a few seconds too late exactly what she intended to do next. 

Sansa, clearing her path of creatures, began running towards a lone horse that had managed to break loose in the confusion of the battle. In moments, she had jumped upon the steed and was galloping for the path running up to the ledge. 

_What the fuck are you doing?_  Jaime wanted to scream at her: instead, he could only watch in horror as Sansa - armour clad and sword held steady - advanced on the two figures.  _Oh Gods…_

Jaime raced towards Sansa but she was so far away and there were too many of the damned things in his way.  _Fuck,_ he thought desperately. _I need to get to her…_

Jaime - with renewed anger and anxiety - hacked the wights down. Already, as he fought his way towards her, he knew it was futile.  _I cannot get to her in time. Damn you, Sansa, you fucking idiot!_

Jaime looked up some time later when he found a moment’s relief from the oncoming threat. Sansa was attacking the first of the two white walkers. The first was almost defeated, but the second was already advancing and Sansa was caught in a tangle of swords.  _No…_

Jaime was about yell at her, but it was hopeless. How the hell could he be heard over the clanging of weapons and war?

Sansa, however, prevailed, dispatching the first white walker and, with the element of surprise, swung her blade round to cut the second creature in half. Almost in awe, Jaime stood dumbstruck and for the second time, almost found himself dead on the ground, managing to cut down the wight just in time. 

That his wife had just defeated not one but two white walkers and survived made him proud but the intense feeling of anger still lingered. 

They fought for a long while longer, now just a machine working as one to dispatch the beings. They were unable to kill all of them now, but they managed to substantially cripple the forces of the dead . Eventually, the Night’s King turned and left, a final piercing glance directed at the remainder of the living. Dragon roared overhead, blasting a final stream of fire at the remaining dead and they drifted away. 

Jaime stormed over to Sansa, grabbing her arms and pulling her into a desperate embrace. He felt Sansa melt in his arms as he buried his face in her hair.  _She’s alive_.

Once he had held her for a while, as Sansa whispered that she loved him, he drew away from her. Suddenly, the sight of her inflamed his rage at her irresponsibility.

“How could you be so thoughtless!” Jaime spat out. At first confusion swept over her features but then it morphs into something almost inflexible and annoyed. 

“And you wouldn’t have done the same, no?” She retorts, her unwavering glare both endearing and frustrating to him. Jaime is practically speechless with anger. 

He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head. “You stubborn, foolish woman. What in seven fucking hells possessed you to go after not one, but  _two_  fully armed white walkers?”

If Sansa were younger and weaker, she might have flinched at the violence in his tone. Instead, she continued to glare back. 

“No one else was going to!" 

"Yes, and that doesn’t excuse why  _you_  had to! Gods, Sansa, you just can’t help throwing yourself headfirst into danger can you?” By now, the survivors had gathered and were eagerly watching the lover’s tiff with ranging levels of amusement. Jaime wanted to yell at them that they were not a mummer’s play to be laughed at, but his irritation at his hot-headed wife won out. 

“You could have died!" 

"Do you never think about what it’s like for me? I have almost lost you before, Jaime!” Sansa paused, pouting. Jaime opened his mouth to reply, but she added, “And I didn’t die! I can handle myself, you know." 

Jaime would have shouted more, but something in Sansa’s tone was so defeated that he relented. 

"I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Sansa made to reach out for him but halted her eyes suddenly fluttering closed as she began to fall. In shock, Jaime just caught her as before fell to the ground, noticing only now that the snow surrounding her feet was dotted with a smattering of blood drops. Jaime felt his heart fall from his chest, his stomach in cold knots.

“Sansa! Oh gods…”

“Jaime, I’m fine,” she whispered. Jaime stared incomprehensibly at her.

“Sansa, you’re bleeding!

“I’m alright,” she repeated. “I’m not bleeding… look.” She produced a dagger from her belt. It dripped with blood and a small cut on her arm explained the source. 

“I cut myself fighting the white walkers…” Sansa clarified, the expression on her face becoming almost sheepish. Jaime gasped in relief. 

“I can’t believe you…" 

"Believe it.” Sansa held onto his arm, being her other, blood stained hand up to his cheek and cupping it as she pressed her warm lips against his. Jaime let his eyes close as he left the bloody northern wastelands and lost himself in Sansa’s gentle touch. 

“I love you.”

“Make up your mind, Lannister!” she jokes and he glares back. Sansa spluttered with laughter but when she cupped his cheek, the joviality had vanished with the White Walkers.

"Never leave me.” Sansa uttered, pressing harder against his lips. Jaime responded by placing his hand over hers on his face and resting his forehead against hers too. He could never be close enough to her. Never.

“Never." 


End file.
